Letter 323: Theodore Studite, Letter 323; Greek heading: Μεγαλῷ καὶ Μαρίᾳ μοναζούσαισ.

Your letter is precious and your address is full of understanding; but the news in it—what shall I call it, painful or joyful? My father has departed [this life], the confessor of Christ, the second Job, the ornament of the monks, the craftsman of love, the man beloved by all, the man of God, the eye full of tears, the mind eager to learn, the one enriched with divine knowledge, great in humility and surpassing in discernment, conspicuous before he took the habit [monastic vows] and after his monastic perfection even more exalted; the man who was bound in the love of God and who, from that love, hated the world and gave all as a dowry to Christ—a substance of great wealth—then was parted from a most glorious consort, from his kindred and friends and companions; the man who left behind earthly dignity, household, city, fatherland, and that too while in the prime of his age, in comeliness of countenance and loftiness of stature, in vigor of body and in ambidextrous mastery of ways both spiritual and visible. And whatever one might say beyond this, one would still fall short of the man's virtue. He has gone, he has ascended to the Lord. Where and how? Carried off as a burden from the flock because of a disease hard to bear, imprisoned in a town for two years and more, then exiled to a certain island, and there completing his confessor's course on behalf of Christ. Therefore this suffering is not painful to me, but indeed exceedingly joyful: he has not died, but has passed over into eternal life; the earth has not covered him, but heaven has received him. The chorus of confessors has taken him up, the common dwelling of the ascetics, where the true light is, where are the blessed repose, in return for the toils and labors he chose in the flesh, ascetically and in confession. Now it is a festival for me, a feast, a delight of soul—and indeed for all the orthodox, who have sent ahead an advocate to God, a fellow-runner now with the martyrs who ran before. Let the Church rejoice that it still gains pillars; let the sacred company be glad that lights again rise up in the world, beaconing those in the darkness of the heresy. O, O, father, father, how good is your course, how holy your memorial, how blessed your record! You are wholly radiant, wholly full of grace. Who that has seen you has not loved you, and who that has met you has not been made glad? Your company is to be longed for, your virtue is a means of knowing [God]. What then remains? Remember your flock and me, your son, even though I am the least and the outcast. You know your longing that is in me, as I know mine for you that is in me. Cry out on behalf of the whole Church to the Lord, and pray also for me, the wretched one, that I may come quickly to you, in the same manner in which you were perfected. These then are my words to our common father. But you I exhort not to betray the faith, to live in holiness as being his—the one of you and the other in turn, the one his consort, the other the consort's blood-kin—so that together with him you may enjoy the everlasting glory.